#please i'm cracking up that shit is SO FUNNY

[safination]

If You Know, You Know.

Big Four Edition (❤️💙💚💛/ ❤️🦅🏹🐯) + One Extra

|Masterlist| Characters: Adam, Vox, Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie. x Reader (Separate) TLDR: Dates around the area with them A/N: Welcome to my dumpster of a mind, where I try to place our beloved Hazbin characters into four to five categories. Will I be explaining any of them? Probably not. Listen, if you know, then you already know. Also, I can't believe I'm falling into this stage as a creator in a fandom. You can take me out of my roots, but you cannot take my roots out of me. Fuck me, honestly. This is the most self-indulgent shit, ever. If anyone irl found out who I am, I would die. Like literally die. Please don't come for me. Yes, this is 100% playing into stereotypes, but it's all in good fun. Nothing I write here says anything about you as a person or a large body of people. Plss lang. Sige an po This is all in good fun, I promise T_T

Adam — 🏹

Come on, this is an easy one. This thing is practically writing himself. Adam would 100% be here. Hatid-Sundo si baby boy by kuya Drivers niya. I can imagine Adam doing such an obnoxious laugh and then going, "Ay, gagi!" ( plus points for the elitism and the momol in hidden spots. I've seen yourFreedomWall)

Adam would walk you around the buildings, especially if you can't go inside. Why is it so hard to sneak inside? He would constantly take you to that one really good burrito and taco place (If you know it, then you know.), and would go to the Power Mac to buy stuff for you because why not.

Vox — ❤️

Hear me out a little. This is Vox we're talking about. So, despite being the type who belongs in the 🦅, at the end of the day, this is still Vox. This holds true considering that . . . uh . . . debate (?) surrounding those who should be accepted into ❤️. While Vox could go with the 🦅, he would snatch up a spot in ❤️. (But like, this is isn't his fault. It really is the fault of the system in place, and we're all proud of Vox because it is a big honor to be here.) Like Adam, Vox would be Hatid-Sundo, and would hang out in UP Town most of the time.

Dates would Vox would include going to Gino's or Nono's or cracking open the books at Tyler's. It would take forever to get anywhere with him because he refuses to walk anywhere, and would either always be driven there or would book a Grab. Plus point for traffic, but you get to bond and talk with him during the traffic.

Alastor — 🏹

He doesn't like being an 🏹 despite majority of the people being really chill and cool. But it's most likely because he bumps into Adam. He's practically crawling up the wall. He sees the life of those in 🏹 and gets really confused at how they act. He rants to Rosie (who would be in the all girl's club) about it all the time. Unlike Adam, Alastor will hop off at Vito Cruz.

Dates around the bay area and MOA, honestly. He would make you listen to his radio broadcast that I do know they have. All four have their own organization. Alastor would take you to Star City, and would insist on walking there because it's walking distance daw, and tricycles are low key a scam there.

(Again, please, don't come for me. 🏹's are mostly chill but come on. You can't deny it. I've seen what the streets look like. I've seen the Power Mac. The aircons.True 🏹 would find it funny.)

Lucifer — ❤️

I don't need to explain why Lucifer would be here. Let's be fr. I will fight anyone who says otherwise.

But unlike Vox, Lucifer would take long walks with you around the oval and the Sunken Garden. Fuck it, I'm even bold enough to say that he would join the run club there if you were into that type of thing. You would eat fishballs and kikiam. There would be no kwek-kwek or balut tho. When you get tired, you and Lucifer would sit by the fountain with the Statue™. Lucifer would take jeepnys with you to get around. If you don't go there, majority of date time would be spent trying to find you a restroom to use.

Charlie — 🐯

I debated placing Charlier either with the maroons or the tigers, but ultimately decided that it would be nice for Charlie to be with the tigers. I don't know how to explain it. It just makes sense to me. Charlie would always have an umbrella with her because rain or shine or terrible rain, she would go.

Charlie will take you to paskuhan at the soccer field to see all the lights and the concert. The food dates around that area would go hard. Like seriously, damn. Charlie would constantly take you to Lover's Lane, and explain all the history of the buildings.

Vaggie — 💙💛/ All Girls

This post is supposed to feature, "the big four" but I don't care. I can do what I want. It's fitting that Vaggie would be somewhere where it's all girl. (That recently started accepting boys too. So that's nice.)

Dates with Vaggie would involve CBTL, but in Regis Center instead of UP Town. Sometimes, you would cross over to ❤️to find something to eat. Tricycle rides to get around, and Siomai would be such a constant in your dates.

[alliekitaguchi]

the funniest thing matt has ever done is reveal that essek was briefly turned into a fish during an aeor excursion.

imagine being an all-powerful wizard, master of your craft, prodigy in a new school of magic, and you're on vacation with your hot wizard boyfriend in the most dangerous place in the world and you get turned into a FISH and your hot wizard boyfriend has to carry you around.

essek is never beating the loserboy allegations

[anlxcqrd]

` 𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐎𝐖?

sypnosis: how the jjk men punish you after doing the "she's busy bro" prank on them.

contains: rough unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, true-form sukuna, aftercare?, etc.

warnings: sexual content is present in the following. read at your own risk.

featuring: gojo, geto, toji, sukuna.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

"You thought that was funny?" Your ass receives a slap, dragging out a yelp from your quivering lips as the malleable flesh of your buttcheeks recoiled from the impact. Sounds of your wet skin slapping against each other. Over. And. Over. Again. Fills the room accompanied by the smell of sex lingering in the air.

"Ah! S'toru hngh..."

Swollen pink lips make contact with your shoulder, kissing them tenderly while his fat thumb snakes down to your clit and starts eriting his name harshly to your swollen nub, pushing you to the edge. "Take that—fuck!" His voice breaks into a whimper as he nears his orgasm. His fat cock bullies your g-spot repeatedly before he releases his load into you making your eyes roll back to the back of your head.

He pulls out looking at the scenery of his cum dripping out of your poor hole. He pecks your lips tenderly, silently muttering an 'I love you' as he wraps his arms around you to carry you to the bathroom. "Was I too rough?" His voice was quieter than the sound of the water filling the tub. You shake your head reassuringly giving his hand a tender squeeze. "Not as rough as he did."

Uh oh.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

"Ah ah ah. I didn't tell you to stop. Finish what you started baby." Suguru coos and you whine frowning at him because you know he wouldn't fuck you. "You did this to yourself. Now suck." He slaps his thick cock on your tongue. "And no touching yourself." He strongly reminded.

You obeyed his order and started to lick his slit slowly earning a low groan from him. You kiss his dark reddish tip before wrapping your plump lips around it and start bobbing your head up and down.

You put his hands on top of your hand giving him full control of your head and thats when you almost gagged because he started bullying your throat, the tip of his shoe starts to grind against your crotch, you let out a muffled moan as you both pleasured each other.

His ass clenches, voice cracking, balls tightening. "Babe—I'm close—hngh" he choked out, gently stroking your hair as he busts his nuts down your throat.

After riding his orgasm, he picks you up before settling you down to his lap, "you did such a good job" he kisses your forehead, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Water please" his smile falters at your hoarse voice before nodding.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

"I'm too old for—Ah.. that shit, y'know?" He lets out a breathy groan when you clench around him. "Well clearly to old to get the joke." You try to get on his nerves and you mentally pat yourself on the shoulder cause it's clearly working.

The way he's so deep inside you makes you mewl and arch your back. "I'm growing white—Hngh.. hair because of you." His tip pressing kisses to your cervix as he pistons himself in and out of you.

Your skin was painted with red marks. He admired the canvas, hips slapping harder against yours, fat balls slapping against your ass. "T-Toji—m'close...don't stop—Ah!" You claw on the sheets till your knuckles turned white as you near your climax.

His thrusts started being sloppy and before you knew it, he was cumming hard inside you, painting your walls white. He rubs your clit making you squirm, screaming his name as you cum around his cock.

He pulls out of you, putting you over his shoulders, your legs limping and twitching as your juices drip down. "Let's get you cleaned up."

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

His claws were drawing scars around your back as he pounds into your tight hole, groaning and choking you with his second pair of arms. "How dare you mess with me like that hm?" You look at him with teary eyes, lips swollen and red. "M sorry kuna—Ah!" You yelp as his hand hits your ass.

"Sorry doesn't cut it." You hold onto him, limbs wrapped around his torso. Your eyes roll up when you feel his mouth on his abdomen lick and suck on your clit. "S-Sukuna w-wait—Ah!" You squirt and that triggered his cock to shoot out his load.

And thats when everything went black.

He pulls out when he feels your limp body against his. "Hey, woman?" He cups your face with a hand hoping you'll wake up but seeing how tired you are, he decides to let you rest.

He ordered some servants to bring a clean cloth and a bowl of hot water. He wipes your bruised body with the damp fabric, hand brushing your hair behind your ear. As much as he hates to admit it, he's much gentler with you for some reason.

[inkskinned]

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

[bbokicidal]

Hiii! Could you pls do some hcs for like sex accidents (like funny) with inexperienced skz? Like idk I think felix would be prone to voice cracks and Han would giggle whenever something happened. Idk feel free to ignore duh! 🫶

Sure! I'll just do a small list quick since it's late for me and I'm tryna answer inbox stuff hahaha

Odd Sexual Moments w/ Inexperienced!SKZ

Chan - Cannot keep his hands to himself because he's just soooo happy to have someone to cherish and worship, which has led to him accidentally touching your bootyhole while grabbing ass. And it's HIM who makes it weird!! Usually you're just like, eh, it is what it is and honestly it's not that bad. But as soon as he realizes it he's like omg I'm so sorry and gets all red and shy like the cutie patootie he is

Minho - Gets quiet when focused and therefore makes little to no sound in bed when he's trying something new like a position or a toy or something. And then when you ask him about it his voice gets all shy and high pitched and he's like im so sorry I didn't realize I was so silent you thought I was dead beneath you my bad

Changbin - ACTUALLY choked you out with his arms once. was behind you, wrapped his arms under your neck cause he knows you like it, and then when your moans died down he was like OH NO and immediately cradled you in his lap until you were looking up at him in confusion. it took him a few hours to tell you what happened because he was embarrassed as shit but he did eventually spill the truth even if it blew his pride to dust

Hyunjin - The w o r s t kisser in the group tbh !!! even if he swears he isn't. Tries to be super suave and romantic with it but ends up nearly choking you w/ his tongue (not that you're complaining) (you can't anyway bc youre actually choking LOL) Please help him he doesn't seem to realize how much he needs to learn

Jisung - Does not know where to put his hands no matter how many times y'all have sex. The first time he legit would not touch you unless you moved his hands to your body, and even after that he was all shy and hesitant because he's A) too scared to outwardly ask and seem nervous, and B) what if he accidentally touches somewhere you don't want him to??? Super giggly about it once he gets comfortable though bc you never stop teasing him for it in bed. (he shuts you up by stuffing his fingers in your mouth but n e way)

Felix - the voice cracks !! He's heard from both you and his friends how much you seem to adore his voice and how large of a range he has so he tries reaaaally hard to use it in a sexy way in bed. but the first time he tries to make his voice lower, it cracks and he almost keels over dead when you comfort him in a fit of giggles. (there's also a time he broke out the baby voice without thinking while squeezing lube into his palm and going "that's enough~" before he booked it to the bathroom in embarrassment and took a two hour shower while trying to muster up the courage to look you in the eye again)

Seungmin - Man has NO idea what he's doing so any time you ask if he wants to have sex and he says yes, he just sits on the edge of the bed and waits expectantly for you to initiate it. Because he legit has no idea how to start anything off. Once you get going he's totally fine and p smooth with it but he cannot start it off to save his life.

Jeongin - the first few times he has sex with you he has to pause in the middle or before switching positions so he can question if this is something god would approve of. you think it's a joke at first when you ask what he's doing and he says "asking for forgiveness" but then realize hes serious. you end up waiting patiently any time he needs to stop and ponder, but eventually he quits giving a shit and says he'll repent for it later or something lol.

[chuluoyi]

I'm thinking about Megumi's sister, who went to magic school with him. who was trained by Gojo. who fell in love with Gojo. who dared to confess her feelings to him. and which Satoru rejected, saying that he was too old for her

it doesn't have to be something obscene… so if you like this idea, then please write something!

belong with me

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer is your savior. you know he is far from your reach... but is it so wrong to love him—after the years you spent by his side?

genre/warnings: angst to fluff, a bit slow burn, age gap, one-sided pining, mentions of injury, comfort, teacher!gojo x student!reader

notes: omg omg i actually really like this idea!! i had wanted to write this since you sent this ask but i was struggling with the setting, so i tweaked minor things so that it’ll fit the canon timeline—reader is megumi’s cousin rather than sister.

and *sigh* it somehow turned out into a 4k+ word🤧

general masterlist

What is Gojo Satoru to you?

If asked that, Megumi would definitely say that he owed both of your lives and his sister’s to him. Following the chaos too complicated for you to understand that left the three of you orphaned at the age of six, Gojo Satoru, who were just barely an adult himself then, was the one who stepped in to take all of you in.

But to you, he was more than just that. He was many things. Your savior, mentor, friend, and... you daresay, first love.

And because of that, you would never thought that there’d come a time when your heart was really broken by him.

At first, Gojo Satoru felt like a big brother to you. Megumi was suspicious of him since the very beginning—his skepticism was funny sometimes—but you and Tsumiki weren’t as much.

He easily became your friend. You would laugh for hours to end after he cracked the stupidest or lamest of jokes. He made the fact that curses exist and that you were somehow able to keep them at bay more bearable.

And when Tsumiki fell into her curse… Gojo was there to bring you comfort.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Your hands were shaking as you frantically poked and nudged your kind cousin from her peaceful slumber at the hospital bed. The smell was suffocating—the sight was unbearable. Tsumiki was supposed to be bouncing up and keeping both you and Megumi at bay, not lifelessly lying here like this.

Facing Gojo, who had a tight-lipped expression beside you, you pleaded, "Gojo-sensei—" your glassy eyes welled up, voice choked with tears, "—make her wake up, please..."

And that was the first time he broke your heart. Even the strongest couldn’t lift this cruel curse posed upon your kind sister.

Your throat tightened, choked with painful whimpers as tears flowed uncontrollably. Sudden grief overwhelmed you, making you sway and shake like a leaf. At first, you didn’t notice how a pair of warm hands enveloped you, drawing you close for comfort.

Gojo allowed you to cry against him while you pounded on his chest. Not a word came out of his lips, a telltale sign that he was taking the situation seriously—something you, above anyone else, understood well.

From then on—ever since the tragedy that befell Tsumiki, it seemed like Gojo became even more protective of you but stricter with Megumi. The two of you eventually pursued the path of jujutsu, driven by one wishful thinking in mind—the possibility to break Tsumiki’s curse.

Encountering Gojo became a daily routine when you lived at the dormitory as a first year at Jujutsu High. He frequently dropped by just to greet you, or give you some things he got from his missions.

"Here," Gojo handed you the package of a popular kikufuku store. With that blindfold on and a shit-eating grin split his face, he actually looked so ridiculous. "I got you all their available flavors! Trust me, you'll like them!"

Against your own will, you felt rosy blush spreading across your cheeks. "Oh, thank you... I'll give some to Megumi as well, he's been working hard lately..."

"Ehh?" he pursed his lips. "No, no, no—they're for you! Don't give them to that emo kid!"

There was absolutely nothing significant about how he worded it. You were well aware of that—only a fool wouldn't be.

So why are you so giddy? Hah, why do you feel like you're... special?

"Don't call him emo," you chided, trying to suppress your smile.

"But he is! He's always grouchy with me without reason!"

Throughout your childhood, and now as you were entering adulthood yourself, Gojo's presence in your life still felt like a comforting, warm blanket—a dependable presence you could rely on, someone you could trust completely.

And apparently, someone you had unwittingly given your heart to.

It was a gradual process. You didn't fall for him at first sight or anything of the sort—it took years of being under his protection. Even as you watched him pursue one girl after another from the sidelines, you couldn't deny it—your heart was already his since then.

He always knew what to say, how to cheer you up.

"What's got you so down, huh?" Gojo asked, tousling your hair gently as you slouched. "Is it because of earlier? Don't be so down, you're doing great."

You fidgeted with your fingers, feeling the sting of failure twisting your gut. "I held everyone back, sensei. That's not great at all."

In the last mission, you nearly put Yuji and Nobara's lives in danger. You had taken the initiative to step into the cursed room, and had it not been for Megumi who came to your rescue, any one of you could have sustained significantly more severe injuries.

Gojo offered you a lopsided smile. "You couldn't have known that. Don't beat yourself up so much. The most important thing is that all of you are safe."

"But we might not, all because of my daring ass."

"Look."

He squatted to meet your eye level, and it dawned on you that he wasn't wearing that blindfold. "The fact is that everyone is good. And no, even if Megumi wasn't there, you wouldn't have been doomed. I would have been there, I always have, yeah?"

He was truly a sight, with that sparkling eyes even more so when he smiled unabashedly, voice not as playful as his tone usually was.

"That doesn't make me feel better," you replied, forcing out the words even as you were somewhat awestruck. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm inadequate."

"You're a first year," Gojo pointed out. "Everyone is bound to make mistakes. You just have to learn from them."

"In our line of work, those mistakes can cost us lives." You chewed your lip, looking down. "I—I don't want to be responsible for someone's death."

Your words left Gojo momentarily speechless. His blue eyes blinked several times as though he was taken aback, and you felt even more small—you had just revealed your deepest fear to him.

But suddenly, he laughed right in your face, prompting you to shoot him a glare. Just as you were about to retort, he rested his palm on your head.

"Do you seriously think I will allow that to happen?" Gojo queried with a wide grin and snarky tone. "To you, out of everyone else?"

You gazed at him in a daze, feeling self-conscious with his warm hand on your head. He'd likely done this a hundred times already, but you could never get past the sensation of his gentle touch on your skin. You yearned for more—for him to cradle your face, to caress you, to draw you closer—

“The obvious answer is, I won't,” he declared so surely, exuding unwavering confidence. You blinked, marveling at how his words made your heart soar and your breath catch. “So stop thinking about scary things. I'm here, remember?”

How was there a person who was such a perfect blend of the man of your dreams—smug, but also funny, caring and strong, like Gojo Satoru was?

Was it a sin to harbor these feelings for him? He has always been kind to you, and if you daresay it, fond of you as well. Is there a possibility—

Really, you should have known your boundaries.

"I think..."

And yet your heart screamed, for whatever it's worth—

"...I love you..."

Why couldn't you see that this was doomed right from the start?

"—Gojo-sensei."

You were breathless. Your wildly thumping heart drowned out almost everything else. Your hands were sweaty, and you braved yourself to meet his eyes.

And when you did, you knew heartbreak for the second time—

The way his smile faltered a bit, yet he forced it upwards, perhaps to spare your feelings.

Just as he always has. Ever since he rescued you back then, he would do these silly things so you would feel better.

"I'm flattered, you know?" Gojo gazed at you genially. "But I think—"

"You don't understand." What am I even insisting? "I... like you so much, Gojo-sensei. All this time."

It was supposed to be your final card. Baring everything to him. How grateful you were that he took you in, the kindness he showed you, Megumi and Tsumiki, those sleepless nights after Tsumiki fell into coma that he spent with you, sharing shaved ice on the hottest, cruelest summer...

"You're almost half my age," he stated matter-of-factly, and a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. "You're mistaking love for admiration. That's it."

"No! I know how I feel—"

"You should find someone your age," Gojo added while maintaining his smile. "There are good guys out there. Toge is nice—ah, but his cursed technique might be a little troublesome. Yuji is earnest and honest..."

You have never thought that there’d come a time where your heart was really broken by him. But he just did, as he listed all your friends without any regard to your feelings.

Suddenly, a wave of resentment surged within you, prompting you to hiss and cut him off.

"You're always like this," your eyes had started to well up with tears, but you ignored it. His puzzled expression only fueled your frustration.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

You felt ashamed, but in hindsight you should've probably expected this. You didn't have anyone else to blame but yourself. You knew it wasn't fair to lay the blame on Gojo like now—he was merely on the receiving end of the brunt of your heartbreak.

You hated this. You hated yourself. And you couldn't help but to hate him too, despite knowing that you shouldn't.

With that, you dashed away, tucking away your first love to the furthermost part of your heart, swearing that you'd never, ever revisit that chapter of your life again.

Ain't that just the worst thing to hear?

Witnessing your tear-streaked face as you hurried past him left him stunned, rooted in place.

In no way was Gojo Satoru going to romance his own student. You were quite literally his protege and his other protege’s sister. That was simply out of the question. Not that he was the model of propriety, but even he knew that was not right.

And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact whether he did see you as a woman or not, because even if he did, it shouldn’t make a difference.

Right? It won’t change anything.

Because it was how it was supposed to be.

It was probably one of the forms of tantrum—or whatever it was labeled—in the end, it was simply a reaction to not achieving what you wanted.

For years, Gojo had shielded you and Megumi from the Zen’in clan. They were horrible people, and you were eternally grateful that Gojo went to great lengths for you, always swatting them away before they could get close to either of you.

Now that you thought about it, who they really wanted was Megumi. Your cousin held the quintessential Zen'in talent, while your modest Projection Sorcery wasn't particularly rare among the clan. Still, they sought you as well, merely to bolster their prestige with another member.

Normally, you wouldn't think such things. But you weren't in the best state of mind, muddled by your blind heartbreak. It skewed your mindset to one of the extremes.

And then you got this terrifyingly brilliant idea—what if you turned yourself to them? Surely the Zen’in would be sated for a while and stop bugging Megumi.

And you didn’t have to see Gojo as often too.

This went against everything he had done to ensure your safety. But that was the first thing that entered your mind when Zen’in Naoya accosted you by chance.

"We're family," he stated with a smirk, sending a shiver down your spine, an unsettling feeling washing over you. "We wouldn't harm you. Why waste your time being Gojo's little errand girl, huh?"

This was easier, or at least that was the illusion you attempted to persuade yourself with.

Naoya left with you with a meaningful "Think about it."

And the more you thought about it, the more you leaned towards the scenario you had thought to be unimaginable before—leaving Gojo behind.

Two months had passed since then, and it was time for the Kyoto Goodwill Exchange event. Gojo remembered this being one of the most exciting moments during his youth, and he sincerely wished that you would have fun too, even with all that had been going on between you.

He knew he was the one who said Yuji would be good. But he wanted to backtrack when he saw him getting punched by Todo. Nah, Yuji was too stupid, he wouldn’t want that for your match. Must be someone else… who was stronger, better.

And then he was even more beside himself when he saw you with Mechamaru.

Like really? That tin soldier? You could definitely have someone more human. He surely didn’t approve of the sight of you getting friendly with that suspicious scrap of metal!

"Hah," he grumbled to himself. Was it just him or were young boys these days simply too subpar?

Yuji is too risky, after all, he is also Sukuna's vessel. Todo... no way, he can crush you with one hand... Panda is a panda...

As if the roster wasn't bad enough, he was met with the most bewildering sight.

Never would have Gojo thought that someway or another, he would see you with that obnoxious Zen'in spawn who called himself the heir.

Before he could grasp his actions, he stomped right into the midst of where the two of you were—

. . .

You were a step away from agreeing to a whole load of new mess, until wind got knocked out of your lungs as you were harshly yanked from behind—

—and the next thing you knew, a broad back was in front of you.

“What do you want?” a low voice, almost foreign to your ears. But this man before you was Gojo Satoru himself, just way sterner than he usually was.

You were caught off guard by his tight grip on your wrist, his dark gaze fixed on the Naoya.

“Ah, don't be like that, please.” Naoya dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm just saying that it's been too long already for you to play the benefactor. She ought to be with the family, where she rightfully belongs."

Gojo seemed to grow more imposing, his sneer deepening. "And by family you mean you?"

The atmosphere grew tense as the exchange between them continued, each word laden with underlying tension.

"Hah, Gojo-sama, you really think you're so high and mighty, don't you? I'll have you know that she, and by extension, the Fushiguro boy, are Zen'ins. No matter how—"

Naoya's words seemed to falter as Gojo's presence intensified. There was this thick electricity in the air, and you almost shuddered when he spat, "Leave."

He couldn't possibly murder another great clan's heir, no matter how much he might have been able to. It would incite a strife that would make his eyes hurt. He just had to scare him off.

And he did. Naoya went with his tail tucked behind him, and that was one problem taken care of. Now Gojo just had one other thing to deal with—

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his tone sharp and accusing, before he even properly faced you. "Since when did you start meeting up with him?"

You hadn’t talked to him ever since your botched confession, but with the way it seemed, he was acting quite normal. It irked you.

"That's hardly your business," you retorted with a hiss.

Your responses seemed to grate him. "Oh? What do you mean it's not?"

"He is right, isn't he? I'm a Zen'in. There is no need for you to go out of your way to keep me under your wing. I can always go back to them."

"Are you—" His frustration was evident and it was quite possibly the first time you saw him direct this at you. "You can't go to them—"

"Sure," you mocked, wrenching your wrist away from his grasp. "I'm telling you, I'm not a child, Gojo-sensei. Please stop telling me what should and I should not do."

"That's not what I'm getting at. I've told you how horrible that place is, your place definitely isn't there."

"And? Where should I be?" you huffed challengingly. "Please, don't tell me that it's your cue to say that it's by your side. Because both of us know it's not."

Gojo didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that you somehow fell into whatever it was that Naoya had whispered to your ear or how bratty you were being right now. Unwittingly, he let his own pettiness slip out, "You know what? You're being quite childish right now."

He convinced himself that, having practically raised you, he was entitled to have a say in major decisions in your life. He wouldn't let the Zen'in take Megumi away, let alone you.

Your face went scarlet with repressed anger. "So be it then."

With that, you stalked away, and just like how you went away from him the first time, Gojo could only stare at you in silence.

How had your relationship with him turned this sour? Was it the wrong thing to not acknowledge your confession before? He sincerely thought you would realize the implications behind your own words and snap out of that ideal version of him you had in mind—because he knew best that he wasn’t made for this.

Girls your age must want a taste of young love. He understood that, but it couldn’t be with him. It had to be someone else.

He resumed his musings earlier before he found you out with Naoya. And he finally came to a conclusion, that Yuta was the best match. Shame he was still away somewhere in Africa.

When Yuta got back, he would introduce him to you. Yuta was strong, kind, and he wouldn’t hurt you. And it would do him good too to have someone who cares about him.

Gojo Satoru never made flawed judgements. He knew this was the best approach, and yet why was there still this stifling feeling in his gut… at the idea of you being with someone—god forbid—who isn't him?

Not long after, a sinking feeling gnawed at him at the chaotic mess surrounding the Kyoto Goodwill event.

At first Gojo thought it was the standard worry. He chalked it up to all of his students were trapped inside this curtain that specifically forbid him to enter. Naturally, he would worry for his students; after all, he was their teacher.

But when he saw you fell on your knees with what seemed like a stem of cursed flower perched on your chest, he knew it was something else.

You were gasping for breath, clutching your chest in pain while Panda supported your weakened form, and seeing you like that apparently was too much for him. For the first time, Gojo regretted his decision. He shouldn't have pursued the enemy first. He should have gone to you first.

His instinct took over as he swiftly tore you away from Panda’s arms, drawing you close to his chest. His mind went blank, but he forced himself to focus on you, on what was causing you pain. "Y/N, calm down—"

"It hurts—!" you whimpered, digging your nails into his arm tightly, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts so much... I-I..."

For Gojo, this was a form of torture he hadn't realized before. For him, seeing you smile should have been the default, not this sobbing, injured, vulnerable state you were in now.

"I'll take you to Shoko. You'll be fine," he murmured decisively into your ear as you slumped against him. His grip around you tightened, and he repeated, "You'll be fine, I promise."

In the midst of your foggy mind, a realization struck—this was the second time you were ever held in his arms. And much like the first time, you felt an overwhelming sense of security.

Ah, but he had rejected you. You should know your place. You really should because pining on someone who didn't want you wasn't a wise thing to do.

But just this once...

Stupid. You were stupid indeed.

Because you chose to bask in this very short fantasy, fervently wishing that the heavens would grant you this sweet dream of him holding you in his arms like just this for a little longer.

As Gojo quietly observed you resting after being tended by Shoko, numerous thoughts swirled through his mind.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

That was not true. He didn't mean to treat you like a child, because you were indeed not. You were a grown woman now, no longer the crying child consoled by Tsumiki and protected by Megumi as you were back then.

Once, you were this young bud he was meant to nurture into strength, but now despite himself, he saw you more as a woman rather than his protege. He wanted to see you bloom into this pretty girl he had always known you were, always innocent and protected—and a selfish part of himself would add: preferably by himself.

You were so serene. You looked so soft too as you laid there. Gojo thought this wasn't quite right and he couldn't quite get the image of you screaming in pain out of his peripheral thoughts.

Had he truly fallen? This strong urge to protect you, ensure your happiness, see you always smiling—it was as if these emotions were suddenly planted, but immediately establishing themselves like deep-rooted feelings that wouldn't fade away easily.

No, actually... who was he kidding? It was what he had kept to himself for a while now. He just refused to acknowledge these feelings out of the misguided sense of propriety.

It was all he could think of from the moment you passed out until you awakened. He pasted a smile on his face when you opened your eyes to his face.

"Ah, Gojo-sensei..." you mumbled, still disoriented. The way you looked at him was as if you were spooked, to say the least, and it bugged him. "Sorry, how long have I passed out?"

"Just a few hours. Are you okay? Do you still feel the pain?"

"Uh... a bit, but I'm okay..."

Normally, he never seemed to run out of things to talk about with you. This was too obvious. You were uncomfortable with him, and he noticed it.

You also seemed acutely aware of this immensely awkward situation. Having spent the majority of your life with him, you used to be open and at ease around him. But now, it wasn't the same. All because of your reckless confession before.

You spent the first few hours with occasional silence. Eventually, Gojo stepped away for a while, leaving behind a lingering sense of discomfort instilled within you.

You remembered the feeling of being in his arms. Once again, he saved you. The least you could do is to express your gratitude.

I don’t like this. It had been two months already. You had to put an end to this unbearable tension. You couldn't force him to return your feelings—you understood that now. And to make it to the way it used to be, you had to make it clear to Gojo too.

And so when he was back to your room, you braved yourself again. For the second and last time.

"Gojo-sensei," you breathed out, willing your shaky hands at bay. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable. Please forget what I said before."

What is this now? Gojo blinked, stopping right in his tracks, somehow hearing how you started with a "sorry" didn't sit well with him.

You continued. "Maybe you are right. I'm grateful for you, I look up to you... for the longest time, I might even have idolized you."

Wait...

"But it isn't love," you said with finality, looking away. "This is me admiring you, for all things you have done for me. And even if it is, I still can't force you to look at me in that way."

Gojo could only gaze at you in silence, a storm raging inside his chest. This was what he had hoped you would realize when you confessed your feelings back then, but now—

"I don't like how... we are now," you gulped. "And it's my fault. So I'm taking it back—"

“No, just—” This wasn’t right. Gojo knows it, but why is he saying this? “Just wait for a minute.”

You started as someone he wanted to protect, along with Megumi and Tsumiki. And then you grew up right in front of his eyes. Someone like you, who had gone through many horrors in life ever since young should have someone dependable and strong who could make you happy.

But then Gojo thought, he didn’t like how others looked at you. Heck, in his eyes, they were inadequate for you, if anything.

“Sensei?” you looked up to him with that doe eyes of yours, and Gojo Satoru felt like this was enough.

To hell with you finding someone your age.

He was strong—the strongest, and if it’s him, he most definitely could protect you far better than anyone.

He could make you laugh—had been for years already, and nothing would stop him now.

He would be damned should you somehow go to the grubby hands of the Zen’in.

“Keep your eyes on me,” his somber voice said then, causing your heart to skip a beat in response.

In short, he was better-suited for you more than anyone else ever could, in every possible aspect.

Apparently he was right. Your place was by his side, after all.

“…because from now, I might start looking at you too.”

[lovedrruunk]

some rlly random Vi dating headcanons :3

A/N just finished this and realized almost all of these are negative traits LMAOO

Jinx version!

Absolutely the type to constantly be eating your food and stealing off your plate. No 'please' no NOTHING... steals your meal like it's her god given right and won't even look at you. If you complain about it she'll give you the same excuses every time which are stupid reasons like "I'm literally helping you earn good deeds right now." or "I'm bulking up." and she'll be completely serious. "Fanum tax" no bitch Vi tax...

"Dark humor". What's funny to her isn't exactly funny to the general public so the shit she blurts out when she's trying to be funny 90% of the time is NOT... You two could be like about to jump from one roof to another and she'll casually go "What if you slip and fall and break both your legs" or the two of you go swimming and she's just like "What if there's parasites in this water" She'd be giggling to herself not realizing that you're literally about to tweak out.

Accidentally breaks stuff around the house. She’s so strong that she sometimes forgets her own strength. You’ll hear a loud crack, and when you rush over she’s standing next to something she’s just snapped in half looking guilty. "Uh, I swear it was already kinda broken." "Kinda?"

speaking of... DENY DENY DENY!!! Maybe Jinx was on to something because she's a SERIAL LIAR. Oh she snores like a ten ton truck? No she doesn't. She ate your last popsicle? Why would she do that? Her tongue's purple? You're seeing things. She makes a face when she lies? Nuh uh? She's making it right now? What are you talking about...

Turns every single thing into a bet (that she knows she'll win). Uses this as a trick to get you to do a chore she doesn't wanna do herself sometimes. Even when there's no prize or consequence she'll just randomly declare them for no reason. “Bet you can't go the whole day without kissing me.” She always regrets that one.

Loud as FUCK!!!!!!! Can't do ANYTHING quietly. Her waking up to grab a cup of water in the middle of the night sounds like a fucking slipknot concert and then she has the nerve to ask if she woke you up.

all for rn gn! :P

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

hi hello!! i love both your mer aus theyre wonderful omg

could we mayhaps have more of gaz seeing through remora readers shit and being so over it? like (if i remember correctly) he likes annoying the real her out when he feels like shes sunken too deep into the brainless lil fishy thing, but what exactly does he do? now that im actually thinking abt it i lowkey just wanna see them sass each other lmao

-- monstie >:3

pspspsps mer Gaz enjoyers @thoseofmonsters @persephone-kore-law @cod-z

47 / 1.2k

...

You peek out of the water's surface next to Gaz. He's laid out on a smooth, flat rock, sunning. You'd think he's indulging himself, but he does this all the time.

"Gaz?" you pipe up. "Aren't you drying out?"

Gaz peels an eyelid open, squinting in the sunlight as he glances over to you. The motion is lazy in the heat of the day. "Nah."

You glance up at the gulls gliding by overhead. You don't trust them. "Well... aren't you hot?"

"S'pose. Not uncomfortable, though." Gaz closes his eyes again, basking leisurely. He pats the rock next to him, offering the open space. "Sit with me."

"No, thank you."

Gaz cracks a single eye open at that, frowning. "Why not?"

You clutch the edge of the rock with nervous hands and glance over your shoulder. "There are boats over there. Humans."

"So? You like humans.”

"When they're in the water," you mutter. You eye the boats in the distance. They're small, but they're not diving boats. "But not like that."

Gaz rolls onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow to look at you. He doesn't so much as glance in the direction you're looking. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you if that's what you're worried about."

"Don't they look at you funny? When they see you up here?"

"Maybe." He rolls onto his back again, stretches his arms overhead, arches his back, and lets out a content sigh. Then he laces his fingers behind his head. "Don’t care. I like being out here. They can ogle me as much as they want."

You notice the boats aren't coming too close, either. "They don't try to talk to you?"

"They do." The corners of Gaz’s eyes crinkle. "I ignore them. Most get the message pretty quick and steer clear.” He glances at you. “What's wrong? You're more skittish than usual.”

You grab his hand and tug it. "Come on, we need to go back to the reef now."

Gaz peers down at you over the ridge of his bicep. "Not quite yet." He closes his eyes again. "I’m comfy."

"Please?" You rummage around your brainthoughts trying to come up with a reason. "I need your help with something."

"With what something?"

"With something. And you're the only one who can do it."

"Yeah?"

"And it has to be now."

He smirks at your pitiful efforts to budge him. Your persistence is cute. "And what is this it that I have to do right this instant?"

"It's... taking me to the cliffs where the seabirds nest."

"You know how to get there."

"But Ghost will get mad if I go alone.”

"Then say I took you. He's asleep. He won't know."

You huff. "Gaz, that's lying."

Gaz rolls onto his side again to look down at you. "Oh, tsk, tsk. Poor little thing. Always so honest and forthcoming yourself, aren’t you?"

Heat pinches the hollow of your throat. He's shaming you.

Gaz leans in, his voice low and lazy. "Tell me something, darling. Do you pretend your head is empty because you can’t help yourself, or because you’re afraid not to?"

You sink down into the water until only your eyes peek out. Heat licks all the way down your chest, radiating against the cold water. "You're being mean."

"Am I?" he croons, his lips curled smug. "I don’t like it when you play dumb. Makes me want to be mean."

If you were a bolder creature, you'd call him a brute.

He reaches out and gives your ear a fond flick.  "S’cute when you pout."

"So you're not coming with me?" you mumble.

"Mm, I didn't say that." Gaz glances up at the sky as he pretends to consider your wants. The corners of his mouth tug up into that dimpled smile of his that never quite disappears. "I'll take you there if you lay with me."

You grasp the edge of the rock again, pulling yourself closer again in relief. "You will? By the cliffs?"

"No." He pats his sunning rock again. "Here."

You look down at the salty, ocean-smoothed stone. "But people will see."

"Don’t care." He pats again, more firmly this time. "Come up. Get warm. You're worrying so much it’s wearing me out just watching you.”

You glance over your shoulder again. It's not like you haven't laid out in the sun before. You like to snooze in the sun as much as any mer. But it always seems to attract attention. Human attention. You're not scary-looking to them like Gaz is. You're more like a novelty. A bauble. Something from old sailing stories.

Humans get way too close to you if you give them the opportunity.

Gaz watches you. “You really think I’d let anyone lay a hand on you?”

"No, but..."

Gaz reaches out and gently grips your face, turning you to look at him again. “Now," he says calmly.

You nod at the command. "Okay. Now. Yes." For Gaz. Your fingers flutter over the edge of the rock as you look for a place to pull yourself up. You try to tune out the ambient human noise behind you.

Gaz helps you pull yourself up out of the water, depositing you on the sun-warmed rock next to him. You end up on your side, mirroring him chest-to-chest.

You stare at his collarbone. "Hi."

He slides a warm, rough-skinned palm up under your jaw to tilt your chin. “Hi yourself.”

His sharkshin feels strange when it’s dry. Not bad, but... strange. Still smooth, but grainy with salt. And it's cold up here. Even in the sun, the breeze makes you shiver and duck into Gaz's chest. You still feel so exposed with your bare back to the busy shallows.

“Relax. Fussy thing.” Price’s words. Gaz pulls you against him, one arm curled over you. Then he stretches out on his back, bringing you with him to sprawl over his chest. He drapes his hand over the fin that trails down the base of your spine, rubbing his thumb over the arch of your lower back.

"Better?" he asks, his voice barely above a rumble against your ear.

"I guess so." Not really.

"Don’t pout. No one’s gonna come up to you while I’m here, you know. Only thing snatching you off these rocks is me. That make you feel safe? Cuddling up with the most dangerous thing here?”

You give him a flat look, still feeling your earlier embarrassment. You’d push him off this stupid rock if you could.

His grin widens. "Don't look at me like that. You started this."

"I'm telling Ghost."

"Tattle-tale."

"Hmph." You wriggle over until you slide into the crook of his other arm with your hand on his chest. This way, you can see the humans and their boats over him, but you're mostly hidden from view.

"Sullen little…" Gaz's other arm slides over your back, holding you snugly to him. One big hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing in a way that makes your eyelids flutter. His mouth is right next to your ear. "Now will you stop flinching every time a boat passes?"

“Okay."

"Good. Now stay," he orders in a low voice, "and stop wriggling."

...

more mer au / more Gaz / masterlist

[rencantstopfalling]

Jschlatt x Fem!reader NSFW A-Z

I'm so sorry I wrote this at 6 am, with zero sleep so please bare with me

18+ MDNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After he cums, Schlatt is knocked out. Doesn't even bother pulling out, he will just collapse right on top of you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you, he loves your boob's and thighs. Both are so squishy and soft, he likes anything he can just grab.

On him, he likes his hands. He likes what he can do with them, finger you, hold you, have you suck them. Very versatile

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes it messy, although hates the cleanup. Would only cum all over you if he knew he had the energy to clean you up. I also think he's very paranoid on getting you pregnant so to be safe he cums in the condom a lot

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Is down to be pegged. Dude can't say he likes water squirted up his ass and doesn't want a strap!! He's just to humiliated to ask

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's had a few girlfriends and sexual encounters in the past. He doesn't peg me as the one night stand type so all of his past partners have been from relationships. Safe to say he knows what he's doing, isn't an amateur

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. I think he said it on the SDP but even so, he likes the intimacy that comes with it. He gets to kiss you, look into your eyes, hold you, just very sweet

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood. He can definitely be silly but for the most part, sex is usually serious, not the type to just crack jokes during

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's got hair, but he keeps it maintained. He's a pretty hairy person, so trying to keep it complete bare would just be a hassle, so it just trims

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think he's rather intimate. Sex isn't something he just throws around, if he's doing it with you it's cause he cares. Not to say all encounters are long drawn out acts of passion, but he shows his love through small acts and service

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before you guys started dating, he would jack off about once a day, but now he's with you, maybe only once a week. He only does it when he's up really late from editing and needs to blow off steam, but doesn't want to wake you up

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Tbh I don't see him being into to many kinks. I think he's a pretty vanilla guy. Maybe a little degradation, and chocking but nothing crszy

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Almost ways at home. He doesn't like the risk of getting caught so he will usually save it for when you guys are in the safety of your home, but once behind those doors all bets are off. Every surface has been tainted

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You doing mundane things turns him on BAD. doing the dishes, folding laundry, scrolling on your phone. Dude just wants you bad

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He absolutely will not put his hands on you. No slapping on your face, he finds it so dehumanizing, he is willing for a few soft spanks on the ass but nothing that will ever leave a bruise

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

BOTH. he's such a munch dude can eat you out for HOURS. It's a stress relief for him. And he can skullfuck the shit out of you, use that mouth to good use (I'm so sorry for that phrasing it's just so funny to me)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He pegs me as the kind to do slow deep thrusts in the beginning, but the closer he gets the faster and rougher he will go

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's usually down for a good quick, bit never in public. Only down if it's right before he has to record or before you guys have to leave the house.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's willing to try anything you want to try, as long as it doesn't cause you any harm. He is OK with rough things, but wouldn't forgive himself if he went to far

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a one round guy. I'm sorry he just seems like once he cums dude is done. You gonna have to give him maybe 10 minutes before another round

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not really. He's got a cockring, but for you he just prefers to do the work himself. He has gotten you vibrating underwear and sometimes makes you wear them around the house to see you struggle cause he's such a tease

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease. Will finger you, then eat you out. It's mostly because he knows once he cums he's tapped out so he tries to satisfy you as much before he enters you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's a moaner, very vocal. He's a little ashamed so ge tries to hide it but the longer he's with you he opens up more and you get those delicious. Moans in your ears

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He sniffs panties. No further elaboration

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6 inches, a little thick, curves to the left. Pink tip

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Its pretty high but he can control it. He's always down for sex but won't pursue every urge

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Right after cumming, dude dies

[orimuraa]

∘˙○˚.• Cause I know you'll save me - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆enhypen when you’re injured ⨾

۶ৎ ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ┆fluff, crack┆kisses, petnames, mentions of injuries, swearing┆wc 697

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: soo...ik injuries aren't funny..BUT i tried to make this light-hearted :( also jiji active era?? like seriously, idk whats up but i have so much motivation rn lmaoo. if you enjoyed, please reblog! i appreciate it so much <3

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"WHAT HAPPENED???? I HAVE BAND AIDS!!" a breathless heeseung bursts through the door, his hair all the place. "i cut my finger," you frown, holding up the wrapped up index finger. heeseung lets out a huge sigh of relief. "phew, baby i thought you cut off your hand!" he says dramatically. "yeah, like band aids could re-attach my hand," you snort, playfully swatting his shoulder. "you're lucky i love you or i would chop of your hand myself."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

you had recently sprained your ankle, resulting in you being bed-bound for the next couple of days to let it heal better (jay's orders, not the doctors). your boyfriend was like a worried mom, making sure you were okay and had everything you needed. "jongie? cam you come lay with me? trust, it'll help my ankle," and how could he say no to such a cutie? "thank you for taking care of me mother jong," you giggle once he's next to you. "heyy i'm just doing proper boyfriend duties!" he whines, a small pout making his way to his lips. and what a proper boyfriend he was.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

"shit!" you yelp as you instantly retract your hand from the burning pot. rushing over to the sink to cool it down, in runs in a frantic puppy, a stressed look on his face. "what? what happened? are you okay? sweets don't die on me!!" he presses, rushing to your side and examining your burnt hand. "ah don't worry jakey, it'll be fine. it was a small burn anyway," you reassure, showing him the small patch of pink. "here lemme kiss it to make it better!" he says, softly grabbing your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your burn. "wahh! it's all better!!" you laugh, finding your boyfriend so cute. "hey i tried, okay?!"

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

sunghoon thought that it would be a great idea to push you to skate on your own, without his help. so that's what he did. he gave you a "small" nudge, which ended with you on the ice and daggers being sent his way. "yah! park sunghoon! what were you thinking!" you lecture once he helps you off the ice. "sorry princess, i thought you could do it on your own," he defends, biting his lip to suppress his laughter. "yah! now my bum hurts," you pout, crossing your arms and turning away from sunghoon. two arms wrap around your waist and a sweet kiss is planted on your neck. "i'm sorry my love. don't be mad," he mumbles into your neck. and how could you stay mad?

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

"ynnie? are you okay? i got your message!" sunoo rushed home after receiving a text from you, saying that you had somehow managed to break your finger. "huh? oh! oh yeah! i'm alright, just a bit sore," you say, showing him the cast on your finger. "my poor baby..c'mon, let's go watch a movie, it'll make it better," he smiles sympathetically. "maybe i should break my finger more often so you're always nice to me," you laugh, receiving a smack to your shoulder.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"shit balls!" you yell out, immediately applying pressure to your finger. you weren't careful enough with the knife and ended up cutting your finger, but luckily, not deep. "baby? what happened? you okay?" jungwon rushes into the kitchen, his leader instincts kicking in. "yeah..i was just clumsy and cut my finger," you mumble sheepishly. "alright," he chuckles. "let's get this wrapped up yeah?" he presses a kiss to your forehead before leading you to wonnie's clinic.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

"agckh-" you bang your head on the shelf behind you on accident as you were trying to grab something from a higher shelf. riki walks in to see you holding your head, mumbling about why someone would put a shelf right there. "little love? you okay?" he asks, half concerned, half smiling at how adorable you were. "yeah, i hit my head on this stupid shelf," you say, making a face at the shelf. "alright, c'mon, lemme kiss it better," he smiles, opening his arms to you. "next time, don't pick a fight with a shelf, it's unprofessional," he laughs into your hair, pressing one more kiss on your head.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[notquitecanon]

Call Me... // Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.

TW: blood, canon typical injuries, kind of hurt comfort, Matt's a self sabotaging martyr as usual, kinda sunshine!reader??? maybe if you squint

Bolded line is from a prompts list from several months ago so I lost the link. If it's yours let me know and I'll link it!

"I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried you’re in another dumpster somewhere. Just call me back…please?" You whispered harshly into the phone’s receiver, burner cell jammed between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled with your keys. 

It was true. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t graced your apartment in weeks after three months of near nightly visits. At first it was serious stuff, stab wounds and splinted bones. It took two weeks for him to crack a joke. But once that stone cold exterior cracked, it was shattered. He was kind, sweet even. Every few visits, he’d bring by supplies to replenish your kit and, usually, with a bottle of wine in the bag.  Emergencies turned to what he called ‘urgencies’- wounds just barely deep enough to justify stitches and dislocated joints. Which then turned into stopping by at the end of his nights for a ‘check up’, where he took advantage of your central heating, warm beverages, and warmer presence. Then, some Yakuza jackass appeared on your doorstep three weeks ago, fortunately your devil hadn’t been far behind. He took care of him, and you figured the thug, now minus fifteen teeth, would have a hard time telling anyone where to find you. Nevertheless, you found the ‘available apartments’ section of the newspaper taped to your seventh floor window. That had been the last night ’the devil’ had paid you a visit. 

"Anyways… I guess I'm asking for a sign of life? Something? Please? Bye." You pleaded, voice kinder this time as you managed to finally unlock the door and slip inside. Locking the knob, deadbolt, chain, and newly installed jam that had been mysteriously delivered not too long ago. With a huff, you discarded your keys, and bag in the entry way before delving deeper into your dark apartment, flicking lights on as you went. 

"You really need to start locking your windows." A deep voice sounded as you rounded the corned into your living room. Heart jumping to your throat and stomach dropping, you let out a yelp as instinct took over. The familiarity of the voice didn’t register as adrenaline flooded your system. 

"SHIT!" You shrieked, flinching backwards so fast that the hallway runner rug caught under your feet, sending you careening into the wall. Without thinking, you put the Yankee’s starting pitcher to shame as you pitched your phone at light speed towards the voice. Of course, the shadow effortlessly caught it.

"Shit!" The intruder mirrored at your fall, and it was then that you realized who it was. As you collected yourself a slew of curses slipped out, looking into the dim living room to find the Devil of Hell’s kitchen slowly rising off the couch, he was already sans black shirt and mask, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you." 

"Yeah, well, mission failed." You muttered, pressing a hand to your chest as if that would still your pounding heart. Slowly, you finished your shuffled into the living room, flicking on the overheads as you went. "Shit, you could have called. Sit back down."  

You could have used the heads up, the gash across his chest looked serious, and not in the cute excuse to see each other way ’serious’ had meant last month. He breathed a sarcastic laugh, tossing your phone back to you before producing a shattered burner cell with a… bullet hole?

"You have a funny way of saving my skin when I least expect it." He tried a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace as you retrieved your first aid kit from under your kitchen sink, "Consider this a sign of life?" 

"A sign of barely alive, more like." You answered, rounding back around the couch to sit across from him. Harshly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and splaying out an array of supplies both his lap and yours. "You’re unbelievable. Almost a month of no contact and then you just appear and leak blood on my couch." 

"I’m sorry." He breathed, face angled to where your knees now touched. You rolled your eyes, ripping into a packet of gauze and setting to work dabbing the blood. And he sounded sorry, pitiful even, looked it to. His unseeing eyes stared straight past you and yet somehow straight through you at the same time, mouth settled in a puppy like frown. He told you once that he was catholic, and you now wandered if that’s why he was so good at looking guilty.  

"If it wasn’t for the newspapers, I would have thought you were dead." You drove your point home, with a small voice, too angry to be a whisper and yet too concerned to be a hiss. The evidence of his activities was written across his bare torso in older cuts, new and fading bruises, and a couple of bandages that he’d obviously applied himself, "And you’ve obviously been busy." 

"Figured out how the Yakuza found you. Handled it. Didn’t want to lead anyone else back here." His explanation was strained, pushed through gritted teeth as you applied antiseptic to the largest, freshest gash. You cooed small apologies, irritated as you were with the vigilante, you hated being the source of his pain. You picked up a suture kit, quickly threading the needle. 

"Well, as far as excuses go, that’s not the worst." You muttered, half joking and half touched he’d go through this for you. You’d known he was a walking martyr from the moment you’d met him, but still. He’d taken the beatings so you’d sleep safe. 

That was something else, "Lean back, gotta stitch you up." 

He complied as you stood, using your shoulder to nudge the floor lamp so the light was better for you. Even then, you position on the coffee table wasn't cutting it as leaning forward cast a shadow over his chest. Neither was kneeling in front of him, as the gash was too far up his chest for your position to be adequate. You muttered a quick apology as you flitted around him, trying to find the best place to plant yourself. Beside him on the couch might work, but you’d be straining to hold yourself up at that angle and keep your hands steady. 

Bloody-knuckled hands found your waist with amazing precision for a blind man, easily lifting you and placing you over one thigh after he spread his legs a bit wider. He held you steady, angling his eyes to the ceiling to give you the broadest view of his chest. One of your knees pressed into the couch cushion between his legs and the other pressed into the outside of his thigh, caging the his black-clad thigh between your own like a seat. If your weight bothered him, he gave no indication. He did however turn his ear ever so slightly towards you and smirk ever so devilishly, "How’s that?" 

"Very convenient, thanks." You forced your voice to be flat instead of the breathlessness you felt. Stupid charming vigilante. To his credit, it gave you the perfect access without blocking the light. And if you got to feel ever twitch of his insanely muscular thigh between yours? Added benefit. The devil, even bruised and bleeding, was insanely warm and smelled like something out of a terribly sinful romance novel. The manly small of musk and sweat should have been revolting, but the way it mixed with a fading aftershave would have been distracting if you weren’t so focused on the drip of crimson down his toned abdomen. Before your train of thought could derail again, you gave a quiet warning watching your patient steel himself before you began running the needle and thread through the torn skin.  Other than an initial hiss and the clenching of his fists against your waist, he went silent as you worked. 

The two of you sat in an almost tense silence. He could feel how close your face was to his chest, the waves of breaths washing over his skin, the smell of shampoo in your hair faint enough to know you’d put off washing it, the sound of your heartbeat slowing back down after he’d gotten you excited, the slight sound of your teeth worrying the inside of your lip. He knew he shouldn't be here, Claire could have patched him up, probably would have if he asked really nicely. He probably could have if he really tried, but he’d just missed you. Between Fisk and the Hand and the law firm… everything was messy. You were still simple and sweet and far more caring than he thought he deserved, a balm just to be near you. 

"Could you talk to me?" He asked, so quietly you almost missed it in your focus. You tied off another knot, seeing him wince. 

"Hmm?" You hummed, pausing to look up from the half stitched wound. His eyes lowered to your face, his clenched hands at your waist loosening to rub the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. You always wore such soft things, he wondered if you’d be so soft underneath. You took opportunity in the pause to wipe some of the blood from his skin. 

"I’ve missed your voice, even if you want to yell at me or be upset with me, just let me hear it." His voice was like a prayer, so sincere it made you shift on his leg. What was in the holy water at his church? 

"I’m not going to yell at you, honey. I’m not going to kick a man when he’s stabbed." You shook your head, rearranging yourself to get that optimal view again, grazing a gloved finger over a purple bruise on his ribs, "Besides, someone beat me to it." 

He chuckled at the lame joke, leaning his head back against the back of the couch again as you began stitching once more. Instead of scolding him, you caught him up on all the details and minor drama that he’d missed over the last few weeks. The funny things and annoyances from work, things your family had sent you, what your friends had been up to, your opinion on current happenings in the city. He listened to you like it was the most interesting thing he’d heard all year, chiming in with questions and quips of his own. You’d missed his voice too, not that you’d boost his ego by telling him that. 

"There." You finally finished, tying the last stitch and taping a bandage over it. The vigilante under you didn’t make a move to leave, instead his hands kept you still on his lap. You breathed a laugh, moving on to everything else. You removed the old bandages, giving half healed wounds a thorough cleaning. You applied comical Disney bandaids to the more minor cuts on his hands and were even brazen enough to kiss his split knuckles. The vigilante seemed to preen under you attention as you cleaned and applied Vaseline to his busted lip. As if it was too good to be true, his lip twitched downwards as his eye brows furrowed. His face angled away from yours, his unseeing eyes falling on the window he’d come through. 

"You know, the burner phone's been broken for two weeks now. Took the bullet not too long after the yakuza paid you a visit. Couldn't bring myself to throw it away, a little piece of you." He admitted, a pitiful smile twitched up before pulling downward again. He groaned, starting to shift you off his lap, “I shouldn’t be here, it’s not right.”

You allowed yourself to fall to the cushion beside him, but snatched the black shirt away from him before he could make a move for it. He’d been too busy letting his hands linger on your waist. 

“Why not?” You asked sternly, tucking the shirt behind your back as if the vigilante in front of you couldn't probably drop you six ways to Tuesday if he wanted to. Not that he could ever consider raising a hand to you, “You got hurt, I patch you up. Seems right to me.” 

The devil tensed, first leaning away and then leaning really close. His freshly bandaged fingers tapped your knee as if to emphasize his point, “I don’t deserve this kindness. And even if I did, if I could, if I was good, I would stop coming here so you could live in peace.” 

You were a silent for a moment, wanting to make sure your response was exactly how you wanted it to come across.  

“The third time you fell through my window, you told me that if I ever wanted to be left alone, all I’d need to do was change the candle I keep by the window.” You recounted his words. You hadn’t known about his senses at the time, he was still cryptic and mysterious. But you’d never changed the candle, buying new ones of the same scent when it would burn out, “You warned me what might happen. You gave me an out, one that I continuously chose to ignore. You did everything in your power to protect me when that choice had consequences. That was good, because you are good. And good people deserve kindness. You put too much on yourself, honey.”  

As you spoke, you laid your hand over his on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze to convey your own point. The crimefighter listened to your voice, your heartbeat, the quickness of your breath, finding no deceit and even if he didn’t believe you words, it was nice to hear them. Your kindness washed over him, letting him relax for just a second before he shook his head, laughing sarcastically to deflect the dangerously sappy emotions you stirred. You called him honey like it was his name, and part of him wondered that if you knew his name if you would still call him honey. 

“You barely know me, sweetheart.” 

His own nickname slipped out by accident, usually just something he called you in his head when he allowed fantasies about telling you everything, coming home to you as the vigilante and the lawyer, seeing just how far your good grace could take him. His lips quirked up in time with the uptick of your pulse and the way your breath caught for a moment. 

“I know enough to know you deserve some good.” You whispered earnestly, reaching up to graze the Star Wars bandaid you’d stuck across his the cut on his cheekbone. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. You smiled softly, maybe you’d both missed each other a bit. The combined concern for the other and the time between his last visit making you both a little sappy, or at least more honest about it, So, you breathed a laugh, making another lame joke just to earn one of those chuckles you loved so much, “Besides, I know you well enough to have your blood on my hands.” 

But he didn’t laugh, instead, he pulled his face from your palm, his own bandaged hands taking your bloodied gloved hands in his own. Gently, he pressed your hands together, your loose fists creating almost heart like shape as he pressed reverent kisses to each bloody hand. The vigilante was kind always, flirty and joking, occasionally flirtations bordering on something else. But this? This was different, it was new. Intimate. You’d almost feel like a voyeur for watching the scene if it you weren’t playing a starring role. Your mind flashed to those romance novels you’d thought of earlier, this put all of them to shame. So much so that your hands started trembling against his lips. 

He held them tighter, but not in a constrictive, cage like way. More in a ‘let me hold you together’ kind of way before gently peeling the dirty gloves off and, again, kissing your clean hands underneath. His face angled to yours, nothing but sincerity lacing his features. 

"You know my blood better than my own heart does.” 

“God…” You whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder, your nose nudging his collarbone and your eye lashes fluttering against his neck. His stubbled cheek fell to the crown of your head.  You cleared your throat again, "I know your blood, but not your name. For someone I care so much about, that’s kind of sad.” 

It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud in such certain words. The vigilante ran gentle hands up and down your arms, silent as a million thoughts went through his head. You heart was racing, not from lying, but in anticipation. Despite your racing pulse, you seemed almost totally at ease with you skin against his, one of your hands pressed to a bandage on his ribs and the other holding purchase at the waistline of his black pants. Nothing sexual, just the perfect place for your soft hand to land.   

Despite the million thoughts, he really had two options. Keep his secret, and keep you at an arms length, to keep things sweet and simple and not too deep. Or. Let you in a little deeper, he'd swim oceans to keep you afloat. Enjoy your sweetness, even if things were complicated. He kept still, holding you as gently as you had touched him, a promise to himself that he could be gentle and soft, just as he could be lethal and ruthless.  Two sides of a balanced scale.  

Your heart had slowed down again, the soothing motion of his hands on your arm lulling you. You had been worried about his response. You’re confession had gotten too real, you were worried he’d jump out the window and disappear again. And you’d be left with nothing but bloody gloves and the thought that maybe you’d just imagined the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

"Matt.” His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper, “You can call me Matt. Just don’t stop calling me."

[octopiys]

Some incorrect quotes and scenes for the pies

Roach: *Screams*

Ghost: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Capt. MacTavish: Should we do something?

Capt. Price: No, I want to see who wins.

-

Alejandro: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Valeria: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Alejandro: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING RODOLFO WITH ME

Rodolfo, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Price: You know, not every problem can be solved with a knife.

Ghost: That's why I carry two knives.

-

Soap: I made tea.

Ghost: I don’t want tea.

Soap: ....I did not make tea for you. This is my tea.

Ghost: Then why are you telling me?

Soap: It is a conversation starter.

Ghost: That’s a lousy conversation starter.

Soap: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

-

Gaz: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Price, putting his head in his hands: Does anyone in this goddamn team ever think before they speak-

-

Graves: Must be hard not being able to laugh

Alejandro: I do have a sense of humor you know

Graves: I’ve never heard you laugh before

Alejandro: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Graves:

Graves: fuck you

Alejandro: fuck you

-

Soap, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo.

Ghost:

Ghost: is it because I said I didn't want your tea-

Soap: YES ITS BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT MY TEA

-

Ghost: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

Gaz, just finding out that Ghost is legally dead:

-

Gaz: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Price: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Soap: Three of us saw it, Cap. How do you explain that?

Price: *points at Soap* Sleep deprivation. *points at König* Paranoia. *points at Ghost* Delusional personality disorder.

Gaz:

Gaz: damn.

-

Roze: What’s something you guys are better than Horangi at?

Hutch: Mario Kart.

O'Conor: Yeah, video games.

König: Emotional vulnerability

-

Graves: *Gets down on one knee*

Alejandro: Oh my god, it’s finally happening.

Graves: *Falls over*

Alejandro: The poison is kicking in.

-

Gaz, after falling out of a heli for the third time: Do you take constructive criticism?

Nikolai: I only take cash or credit.

-

Soap: Can you keep a secret?

Ghost: Do you know anything about my life?

Soap: No I do not. Good point.

-

Gaz: Hey heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this haha-

Roach: What did you-?

Gaz: A MISTAKE WAS MADE

-

-

I just wanna say thank you all sm for 300 followers! You all r loved and I'm not good with responses but I appreciate them all so muck, thank u again :DDDDD

[landograndprix]

woman ✾ l.n - i

❧ you love max, you really do but your little brother has been getting more on your nerves each day as he tries to set you up with one of his friends.

❧ new series! Verstappen!reader is older than max so if your uncomfortable with that, please don't read. 😉 to make things easier for you and myself, Iris/irisxo & sanne/sannetje are your best friends, lots of use of random oc's as your tagged friends. I'm not really sure who wanted to be on my everything taglist so sorry if you're not on here :(

next part

☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nverstappen

📍 Hard Rock Stadium, Miami Gardens

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 132,761 others

y/nverstappen a bit of behind the scenes from this weekend, completely shocked by the results. Very proud of this little guy🥇

tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing

view all 625 comments

kian18 absolute beast!

maxmaxmax y/n delivering the goods once again 🥰

sharl16 man, p1 was a real surprise!

y/nverstappen nah, absolutely blew my mind when he crossed the finish line first 🤯

martinleblanc there's nothing funny about a 22+sec time gap between p1 and p2..

y/nverstappen I know, I've told him that before but little brothers usually don't listen to their big sisters..

kellypiguet we're all proud of him ❤️

ginaaa09 all you do is post about max & redbull 😭

norry4 girl it's her lil' bro and she's proud of him and the team, let her 💀

irisxo this guys pretty good, he should consider racing

leon12 verstappens 🤮

y/nverstappie boy you either follow y/n or you're actively looking for max content..tell me you're obsessed without telling me you're obsessed

☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nverstappen

📍 Ibiza, Balearic Islands, Spain

liked by martingarrix, landonorris and 187,982 others

y/nverstappen 'biz baby 🏝

tagged: martingarrix, irisxo, julianpeters, sannetje, liesslot

view all 561 comments

hannahh 🔥 🔥

verstappenmax oh to live a life like this..😩

norrislan Martin not only out here collecting f1 drivers but their sisters too 💀

max33 i don't think most of you know how well known y/ n is in the netherlands and belgium, Martin isn't the only 'famous' person she's just hanging out with..

julieeeexo if anything, y/n might be a bigger person than max lmao

max33 I know right?! I see her more on my TV screen and socials than max 💀

irisxo same time next week?

sannetje I'm too old for that love

y/nverstappen honestly same

patricko 😍

lolaaaxn 🥵

verstapricc beauty 😍

☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nverstappen

📍 Amsterdam, the Netherlands

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 198,728 others

y/nverstappen home is where the heart is or something like that.

tagged: irisxo, victoriaverstappen

view all 478 comments

blake78 you single?

teampapaya two very desperate f1 drivers in the likes 💀

victoriaverstappen can't wait to spend another weekend in Amsterdam with you ❤️

y/nverstappen take my nephews with you next time!

maxmaxmax absolute beauty 😍

norry4 are you going to be in Italy next week?

y/nverstappen no but I will be in Monaco!

charles_leclerc that food looks amazing

lestappen this boy cracks me up, you need to up your flirting game, this is shit 😭

charlos16 probably better than your pasta pesto..

chilisains Charles sees a pretty woman: "so like you make food often?"

☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆

taglist: @hockeyboysarehot

[cottoncandyswisherz]

we'll see

toxicbabydadd!chris x birthdaygirl!reader

warnings: toxicccccc, rough, unprotected sex (dont be dumb) biting, choking, the word 'then' a million times

-

ITS A REAL BITCHES BIRTHDAYYYY

your house is full and everyone's drunk. except you. 

you have to say sober, because you're breastfeeding your daughter aaliyah. 

but you don't have to be shitfaced to have fun, so when you hear your song come on, you tap your best friends shoulder. 

you've had a routine to freak hoe since high school so she knew what time it was. you move through the routine with no grace. throwing ass is not elegant but it's what you do best. 

"WE ATTTTEEE!" she yells over the music.

"AND DIDDDD!" you shout back. 

"IM NOT DRUNK ENOUGH!" and with that, she's gone. off to make herself another drink, leaving you to go to your room to call the sitter and pump. 

but as soon as you enter, you see chris standing in your room, on his phone. he looks up when he hears me. 

"what the fuck?"

"i just wanted to give you your gift and leave."

"so you went to my bedroom?"

"i saw you dancing with celine. i didn't wanna kill your vibe."

you scoff at this and sit on your bed, bringing out your phone. "you killed my vibe when you fucked someone else while i was 8 months pregnant with your baby."

"aight, bro, chill."

"fuck you."

chris walks around your bed and stops right in front of you. his waist dangerously close your face. he places his hand under your chin, gripping your jaw. 

"watch it, mama."

WOOOOOOOOOSHHHHH just like that. panties ruined.

but tina aint raise no bitch so you stand up, roll your eyes and walk over to your dresser to fix your lashes.

"or what, chris?"

"you know what."

"i really don't" you said bluntly. "you don't get to have the whole 'i'm sorry, please let me cum' thing anymore due to the fact that you're a cheating whore that i no longer love."

hearing that must have pissed him off because he was on you in an instant. his lips on yours, his left hand applying beautiful pressure to your throat, his right hand squeezing your ass.

your head grows fuzzy. its like he has crack on his tongue and is intoxicating you with each stroke of it. 

you don't have time to think of the hurt he caused as he moved from your lips, to your neck, then to your chest. 

then he's on his knees. pushing your dress up your hips and kissing down you waist sucking hickeys onto your thighs. 

"you think that shit's funny?" he growls, biting the meat of your inner thigh. "talking shit to me, after i've been trying to get you back for months?"

this made you laugh. "you'll never get me back chris."

he turned you around so your front was pressed against the wall. his fingers gripped the edges of your panties, guiding them down your legs, biting your ass and smiling when he saw the mark of his teeth in your cheek.

"we'll see."

and then he was standing up, your back to his front, and you felt him on your bare ass, his sweats doing  little to hide the effect you clearly had on him. 

you felt his hands grip your hips and move you from the wall to your dresser, so you could see yourself. 

"i want you to watch." he slid his bottoms down to knees, freeing him of his his restraints. "i want you to watch me ruin you." 

and then he was sliding in you with so much force, you jerked forward, throwing your hand up on the mirror to brace yourself. and in that moment you remembered why you'd let him get you pregnant. 

this man was a fucking beast. 

he was fucking you like it was all he could do to stay alive. hard, fast, and so, so, fucking good. he was so deep, hitting the same spot that made you taste purple. all your senses were out the window yet you felt everything he was doing. you felt his hand digging into your waist, you heard his grunts of pleasure, you saw his eyes trained on where you were joined. 

he looked so.... fuck. 

all you could do was grasp at the edges of your dresser and keen for him.

until you felt him move impossibly faster and his fingers reach under you and draw quick circles on your clit. then all you could do was tremble in his arms and reach behind you to push him away because it was beginning to be too much. 

he used his free hand to pin your arm to your back and use it as an anchor, digging deeper in you so you felt more of him than you thought there could be. 

"oh fuuuck-" you gasped. 

"you don't love me anymore mama?" he forced out. 

"chris- shit! please...." you cried out. "i'm gonna-"

"hold it."

"no! please no." you begged. 

"you wanna cum?"

"yes please, chris" you were a mess at this point. eyes rolling back as you tried to do what he'd asked. you knew that if you came before he'd allowed it, you'd never leave this room. 

"do you love me?"

as much as you wanted to say yes, you refused to let him win so easily. 

"no."

this only pissed him off because he shifted from fast and hard to slow, deep, torturous strokes that made your brain go blank. 

"jesus fucking..."

"you sure?"

"i don't know..."

"i think you do mama." his pace on your clit was the same demonic speed as before, confusing your mind. "all you gotta do is admit it and you can come all all over me. i want you to make a mess for me. i wanna feel you all over m-"

"FINE FUCK!" you cried. "i love you."

"that's my girl."

that's all it took for his pace to restart, pounding into you with ferocity. 

"cum, mama. cum for me." 

and you did. you sucked in a deep breath and slammed your eyes shut as you shook on the dresser. 

all you heard was the blood rushing in you ears as you let go of everything you'd been holding for the past 2 minutes. 

"shit, babe. i'm gonna-"

that snapped you back into reality. you did not want any more kids right now so you gathered all the strength you could and turned around, dropping to your knees and taking him in your mouth.

your head rested on the drawers of the dresser as you felt his load shoot down you throat with a moan that can only be described as godly. and when he pulled out of your mouth he pulled you up to your feet by your throat, kissing you with so much passion, you were ready to go again. 

but then he pulled away and gripped your face so you were looking into his eyes. 

"you'll always belong to me, y/n."

niyah speaks rushed as helllllll but hapy late birthday!!! @55sturn

taglist: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @thisisntmattsturniolo @chaossturns

[levitrophyteacup]

"Are you sure about this?" You take a glance at Levi over your shoulder, your hair forming a curtain that partially cover your face.

He is naked, just as you, and despite his calm expression, his cock is rock solid. You can see that his glans is shining with a copious amount of precum, explaining the wet patch on the front of his pants when he cornered you in your shared bedroom after closing the tea shop.

You have teased him all the afternoon, so it wasn't really unexpected, but it is thrilling to know that he is so ready to indulge in this kind of pleasures.

He's come a long way from the man he was: reluctant to share himself, uncomfortable with the intimacy of it all. You are flattered that he trusts you this much.

He tilted his head to the side, "I can stop if you want" and you detect a hint of teasing in his tone. His fingers slowly descend the curve of your spine and you bent forward, pushing your elbows on the mattress and rising your hips, adjusting you knees to spread you more and offering the view of your pussy.

The cold air hit the damp flesh. You shudder when his fingers keep on going, sliding on the crack of your ass. He stops at your orifice, passing the thumb in a circle on the puckered opening.

You moan "Fuck... I have no patience for that" you turn to him, smirking, "Lower. Don't you love my cunt when it's all wet? You want my ass too? Greedy."

Levi's breath is a little uneven, raving the nude espanse before him with a quiet hunger.

"Maybe I am" he rasps, putting his bad knee on the mattress, leaning on your back. The tip of his cock brushes against the lips of your vulva, and he let his lenght sliding up and down your sensitive lips, coating him in your arousal.

You both groaned.

"Well, I'm pretty close already" you whisper, biting your lips at the erotic sensation "If you fuck my pussy now I'll be so tight... I'll suck your cum so deep inside me that it'll never slide out"

"Shit. Can I?" he growles and you nod. He pushes inside of you in one thrust, and you imediately buck against his hips to set a pace that robs your lungs of air.

He grabs your waist, setting a passionate rhythm made of wet slapping and both of your voice combined in a symphony of groans, moans and cries.

He is gorgeous: his dark hair matted on the forehead, a drop of sweat tracing a path on his scar to his parted lips, devouring you with his eyes and his cock, ramming in you without ceremonies.

You are so close...

You are so caught up in one another that for a moment you don't register the door of your bedroom being slammed open.

"Mister Levi, I heard a scream what's...?!? AAAAHHHHHHH!" Gabi take a step back, covering his eyes behind her palms, bolting away and crashing on Falco, right there with her.

"Gabi! Is something...? Oh, my God!!!" He shrieks, fighting to detangle himself from Gabi and running away with her.

You and Levi stay put, frozen in embarassment and stunned beyond recovery. His cock deflates swiftly and your forehead hit the sheets.

"Fucking hell..."

The frantic voices of the two teens can be heard in the street, along with the low baritone of Reiner's voice. He is concerned, trying to understand the horrified rambling of his cousin.

"I forgot that I invited them for dinner" you admit sheepishly, and Levi slide out of you, as red as a tomato.

"What?"

"Sorry."

"There's no way that I'll sit at the table with them after... this".

Reiner's laugh sounded clear, and Gabi screams "It's not funny, Reiner! I've seen everything!"

"Gabi, please..." groans Falco.

Levi curses, reaching for his trousers, and you flops on the bed, getting ready for the most akward dinner of your life.

"Well, shall we?"

[moonlight-prose]

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE

a/n: all i'm gonna say is this song is so benny coded i'm losing my shit over it. he's absolutely the man to leave you in tears by the end of the night. also someone stop me from writing heaps of angst for him, because i genuinely can't stop making wips in my drafts for him. this is entirely unedited because fuck it and i'm nervous he doesn't sound right, but oh well. the divider is made by the incredible @saradika-graphics.

summary: benny cross was trouble, he was a storm waiting to cause damage, he was everything you wanted. but men like him have a tendency to break hearts without even trying.

word count: 2.6k+

pairing: benny cross x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, crying, benny is a toxic man in this, emotionally constipated men, reader's favorite color is red. stupidity, violence, blood, fixing up wounds, makeup getting messed up, thigh riding, spitplay, he's filthy.

"He'll get you into trouble honey."

Five months ago you wouldn't have thought anything of the words Johnny said over a glass of whiskey, his eyes trained on the way you looked at Benny. The far off gaze that he'd seen cross his lady's face more often than he expected. At first it meant love—hope that you might finally meet the one you longed for—but reality always seemed to crash down around you quicker than you expected.

You laughed as if he told you a joke, a funny one liner that would be a distant memory on the day of your wedding to the man by the pool table. You thought nothing of his words and found yourself lost in the gaze of blue eyes and red knuckles.

You should have listened.

The door slammed shut with a resounding bang as you stormed through the small house—your jacket discarded over the leather chair Benny claimed belonged to him. Anger burned in your chest at the realization that one day...it wouldn't sit there. One day he'd leave and you would finally have the gall to throw that piece of shit outside. You glared at it as he followed you, shutting the door with a soft click, a distant sigh leaving his lips.

"Baby—"

In all the months you'd known him, Benny being scared was unthinkable. He was a man who made more trouble than he sought out, the same man who came home bruised, bloodied and begging for mercy. The man you promised to love forever. Yet when your gaze fixed him with a look that could have killed him if you weren't weaponless, you watched that small inkling of fear cross his eyes.

Benny was scared.

And not because he nearly got killed in a fight. Not because he leapt across the bar, a blade in his hand, and a smile on his lips. He felt terror at the thought that you—the person he found his little inkling of peace in—might finally be the one to turn him away.

Tonight very well could be your last straw in this relationship, the thing that finally cracked you in half, and Benny felt his heart drop to his stomach.

He swallowed thickly around words that would never leave his mouth, a cold sweat beginning to form along the back of his neck as you stayed silent. There was nothing either of you could say to fix what broke tonight. He threw the first punch and felt satisfaction at the crack that followed when his knuckles met bone and blood stained his skin.

"I'm s—"

You huffed, fingers curling into fists. "I swear if you so much as say a single word I will break your nose."

The grin that crossed his lips wasn't helping your anger—merely fanning the flames of something catastrophic—but he couldn't stop the thrill that nearly flipped his heart at your threat. His girl, so pretty and dolled up, ready to send a fist flying towards his face. Maybe he should talk to someone about why that made him smile. Why he wanted to kiss you senseless all of a sudden, until neither of you could breathe.

He should have realized it was fucked.

Instead he licked his lips and yearned for more.

Exhaling a deep breath, you closed your eyes to the image of him with blood still smeared across his knuckles and a bruise forming on his cheek. Johnny warned you. He told you Benny Cross was trouble. Yet even now, you found yourself unable to unravel the tangled thread that tied him to you. That set in stone your future with this man. You gave your heart over without thinking about the consequences. But wasn't that supposed to be what love is?

Weren't you meant to fall fast and quick and pick up the pieces later?

"Go sit down, I'll get the bandages," you muttered.

Thankfully, he didn't give you a fight on that front. He nodded silently, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, as he took a seat in his chair. You half expected him to let your jacket fall to the ground. Instead he folded it gently, placing it on the couch with enough care to break down a small bit of your anger.

He wouldn't speak. Not until you asked him to.

But he could show you he loved you in ways that went unnoticed by others, yet meant everything to you.

You returned silently, handing him the first aid kit as you poured alcohol on the once clean towel. A feeling he often fled from began to eat at his insides, clawing up his throat, as you bent down to evenly wipe at his open cut. He didn't flinch, barely even registered the sharp sting of pain. His mind was reeling, heart pounding, with the knowledge that he felt guilty.

"Johnny warned me," you sighed, seeing the beige towel begin to turn red.

Benny hummed, blue eyes meeting yours—that soft gleam of an apology shining through. You tried to avoid looking at him, knowing your resolve would break. Not even you could deny how irritating his gift for softening you up was. Yet somehow...you always let him get away with it.

"He said you were trouble."

"Johnny says that about everyone," he sighed. He wanted to touch you, to place his hand on the back of your thigh as you stood between his legs.

The harsh and final swipe at his cut sent pain down his face. Enough to have him reaching for you blindly, a soft grunt falling past his lips as you began to clean his bruise. You should have pushed him off, maintained your level of anger, but with Benny things became complicated. Anger bled into your love until you couldn't discern between the two.

Love and hate toed that invisible border between the two, but with him...the line simply disappeared.

"I asked you to stop fighting." He handed you the bandage softly, still trying to meet your gaze. "I don't like you coming home broken. Bloody. Do you think this is fun for me Benny? Stitching you up every time?"

His breath washed across your wrist, eyes falling shut as the guilt practically ate him alive. You could see the conflict on his face. A struggle he didn't know how to win. Fighting was all he knew, all he could count on most days, and whether you liked it or not, it helped him keep the control he desperately needed. The one thing in his life that remained unwavering.

"No," he murmured into the skin of your wrist.

"Then why?"

"I just gotta do it baby."

Bullshit always sounded prettier coming straight from his mouth. More often than not you took it without a second guess. You let him be the wild man they needed—the person who would fight without question. But tonight as you watched him pummel a man into the ground, you caught a glimpse of your future. Of the path that you willingly said yes to.

And it terrified you.

"I know the club needs you," you sighed, cupping his face and finally meeting his soft gaze. "I know Johnny needs you. But so do I."

The sting of tears wasn't unfamiliar when it came to Benny, but you wanted it to be different. You didn't want to cry over his mistakes anymore, you didn't want him to be the reason you were like this. He let out a breath, his hands reaching for hips with a gentleness that gave you whiplash. There was no resistance in your body left, no arguments to be had, because this was just how things were.

Benny Cross remained himself at the end of all of this.

Even as you broke in his hold.

Tucking your face into his neck, you allowed your worries to slip into the background. What more could you do? When you loved a man so reckless he barely remembered to breathe before jumping headfirst into danger. His hand ran down your back, lips finding your temple, as the night began to settle, and you found yourselves back in the same spot. In a position that felt familiar.

"You've got me," he murmured, feeling the collar of his shirt grow damp with your tears.

"The club comes first though."

"I don't know what you want me to say—"

You shook your head and pressed your face into his palm, his thumb running along the top of your cheekbones. "That's just it Benny...you can't say anything I haven't heard before."

A flicker of something foreign creeped along his face, peeking its head out before sneaking off again. A part of him that he'd never share with you. The trepidation, the grief, the worry that he barely let himself feel. How could he give that to you? How could he let you see it all without scaring the shit out of you?

Keeping that to himself was what kept him there. It stopped him from running at a moment's notice. And you knew that.

You figured it out the day you met him.

"C'mere," he mumbled, gripping your chin with the softness of a lover who yearned to apologize but didn't know how.

So you fell into his touch and let his lips slide along yours. You kissed him back with a worn out sigh of pleasure, your hands creeping along the neck of his jacket—until your skin pressed against his. Benny didn't kiss you with passion or fervor. He kissed as if he had all the time in the world to do nothing but. To tease out every manner of sounds that might be trapped in your chest.

His tongue dipped into your mouth, hand gripping at your hip as his breathy grunt was swallowed by your lips. By the moan you fed him—the need that echoed from your chest directly into his.

"You taste like me," he groaned, his hand finding the back of your neck at the same time he gripped your ass, pushing you a bit closer. Until no space remained but the clothes you wore.

You smiled, stealing a quick bite to his bottom lip he felt right down to his cock. "I taste like cigarettes."

"My cigarettes."

"You all smoke the same cigarettes baby."

He mumbled something you couldn't hear—not because you didn't try, you did—because he chose that moment to press his thigh between your legs, catching you in a kiss before the sound could escape. What you might have recognized as a soft warmth that spread through your stomach, suddenly burned you on sight. A whine spilled from your mouth, your fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, and yet he merely smiled against your lips.

Whatever argument that might have continued long into the night, died in the back of your mind the second he guided your hips along his leg. The rough fabric of his jeans catching along the seam of yours. You wanted to focus on him, to see the slightest bit of crimson dust his cheeks, but the haze of bliss began to bleed into your vision. Blurring anything but him and his thigh and the open mouth kisses he tracked along your throat.

"B-Benny—"

The squeeze on your ass let you know he was listening, and perhaps you were too far gone to realize how your heart fluttered at the touch. Maybe he knew that this was too much for you to give up on. The unconditional pleasure he was willing to give you.

The ache he could fill with ease.

"That's it," he mumbled against the corner of your lips, gripping your chin in his large calloused palm. "Ride it. Take what you want."

Soft panting breaths was all you could get out with each stunted grind of your hips along his leg. With any other person you might have felt ridiculous. Like you were the show they were paying for. But with Benny...you existed beyond whatever this was; you were the person he'd ride to hell and back with. The person who gave him a reason to come home.

He watched you with awe in his eyes, his thumb rubbing along the eye makeup that you cried off. The mascara that you'd later have to remove with his help.

"How do you feel?" he finally said, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

If he wanted coherent sentences, he wasn't getting them. And some part of him knew. He could see the effort it took to even keep your eyes open as blinding pleasure began to course through your body. Ripping at what anger might have remained and replacing it with want.

His name was a soft sigh on your lips, eyes glazed and begging for that final push. When it came to you, he willingly gave in, gave you the need that he could feel in his own body.

"What do you need?"

He knew what would push you over the edge; could practically see the plea in your eyes. And his lips curled at the sight. Your hips dragged along his thigh in short stunted thrusts, working yourself past the point of feeling that blistering ache in your legs. Pulling your face closer, he pinched your cheeks slightly, silently waiting for you to follow his move. He wasn't a patient man, but when it came to you...he'd endure centuries if it meant getting to have you like this.

"I know," he murmured, sliding his nose along your cheek. "Lemme give it to you."

With a soft moan, your lips parted open, fingers grabbing onto the front of his vest in the hopes that it would stabilize you. He dipped down licking into your mouth with a groan, before the all too familiar sensation of his spit landing on your tongue sent heat flaring towards your stomach.

"That's a good girl." Your eyes fluttered, body trembling. "Swallow."

Few things existed that made him feel that flutter in his chest. The sight of your eyes rolling back as the release you'd been aching for finally spilled over and down your spine, was at the top of his list. He'd watch it on repeat without ever tiring of what he could bring you to. A feeling that if taken away from him, would bring a sane man to madness.

"Benny," you sighed, feeling his forehead press to yours, his chest heaving with deep breaths as he tried to settle his body. You needed a moment to gather yourself before he dragged you back to that comfortable bed you made him find the first week you began dating him.

"I'm sorry."

The words weren't a promise, nor a confirmation that a future spent with him would change. Or even be easy. But you took what little he could give. The pieces of his heart he let you have, even as he fought everything screaming at him to leave.

"I know," you whispered, giving into his hug, and soaking in the affection he offered.

You came to the conclusion that this is where you differed. You loved with everything, all that you could give of yourself. And Benny loved like the wind. There for moments of the day, but gone by the time the moon began its ascent into the sky. You never knew when you'd finally catch him for good—perhaps you never would.

His hold tightened, lips finding yours, and it was then you finally settled on the answer you'd been searching for. You didn't want to find out the future, because this right here...this was enough.